Chapter Two
Victor is curled in bed, hugging a pillow, staring at the wall.
The curtains are closed, so he cannot tell how late it is without looking at the clock.
His bags are still in the living room of his suite, just where he left them.
The television is on and muted, still on the welcome screen with his name and the caption “Happy Birthday” in bold white letters.
The sounds of traffic on the streets below are low, yet still audible, providing subtle white noise as Victor lays still.
As he stares off into space, there’s a knock on his door.
“Victor? It’s Lucas.”
Lucas has been Victor’s closest friend since high school; they have been stuck at the hip since the first day they met.
They even worked together at a very popular theme park before Victor became a flight attendant.
Victor was also Lucas’ best man when Lucas married Jon.
Even though Victor has moved around the country the past several years, they have always remained close.
“Victor, can you please open the door?” Lucas says on the other side.
Victor doesn’t move from the bed. “Don’t make me call security to open the door,” Lucas comments jokingly, even though he is serious about the threat.
Victor begrudgingly gets out of bed and walks over to open the door, groaning all the way.
“Hey, mister. How are you feeling?” Lucas asks as he enters Victor’s room.
Victor turns and heads back into the bedroom, “Fine, I guess. Just watching my shows.”
Lucas cocks an eyebrow as Victor heads back to the bedroom. “Your shows? What are you, 40?” Lucas closes the door behind him and follows Victor.
“I just turned 32; that’s practically 45 in gay years,” Victor responds.
When they enter the bedroom, Lucas looks over at the television and notices it is still on the hotel’s welcome channel. “I see you’re watching some trashy dating competition,” Lucas jokes.
Victor crawls back into bed, and Lucas takes a seat next to him. “Everyone’s been trying to get a hold of you for a while,” Lucas mentions, turning on the nightstand’s light. “They’re starting to get worried.”
“Just tell them I’m fine, just dead inside.” Victor pulls the comforter up to his neck and rolls onto his side.
“Come on, get up. Let’s get you into the shower.” Lucas gets up, goes over to the window, and opens the curtains. Victor hisses dramatically when the curtains open, letting in the remaining daylight. “We’re taking you out to dinner. Get ready.”
Victor pulls the covers over his head. “You guys go celebrate without me.”
Lucas glares over at the bed. He storms back over and forcefully pulls the covers off Victor, “I didn’t fly all this way to see my best friend, whom I haven’t seen in almost two years, hide away in his room. Now get your ass up, shit, shower, shave, and let’s go.”
Victor resentfully complies. “Ugh! You’re the worst,” he moans.
“And that’s why you love me,” Lucas says as he walks to the bedroom door. “You better be downstairs in an hour.” Lucas leaves the suite as Victor gets up and heads into the bathroom.
Victor freshens up and steps out of the shower. As he dries his hair, he steps up to the sink and takes his towel to wipe the foggy mirror. “You look like a dumpster fire covered in glitter while being pulled by a unicorn,” Victor mutters to himself.
While brushing his teeth, he starts to zone out, staring down at the faucet. Suddenly, something catches his eye in the mirror. He stops brushing to look over at the spot in the mirror but doesn’t see anything. Victor shakes his head, then bends to spit and rinse his mouth.
When he looks back into the mirror, the man he passed by while exiting the elevator stands in the foggy background.
Victor turns around in a panic; no one is behind him.
He looks back in the mirror, only to see his reflection.
His heart still racing, he assures himself, “There’s no one here.
You’re just seeing things because you’re tired and hungry.
Let’s go downstairs and meet your friends. ”
Victor and his friends arrive at the restaurant where Lupe had made reservations for dinner.
The restaurant is packed. The aroma of Cajun food fills the air as the group walks over to their table.
A band in the corner plays lively jazz as a few couples take the floor and dance to the rhythm.
Victor takes a seat at the head of the table while his friends sit on either side.
He can’t stop thinking about seeing the mystery man in the mirror while getting ready.
As a result, he doesn’t notice when the server asks for his order.
Jon snaps his fingers in front of Victor’s face, causing him to pay attention. “Everything okay, dude?” Jon asks as he and Lucas give him a concerned look. “You looked like you were a thousand miles away.”
Victor looks at everyone, looking back. “Sorry, I was just thinking about something.”
“Do you need another minute to order?” the server asks.
“Yes. No. Sorry.” Victor shakes off the thought and looks up at the server. “I’ll have the jambalaya, please,” Victor orders while pointing at the menu. “And I hate to be a pest, but is there any way to not make it too spicy? My stomach is acting up.”
The server looks down at Victor as though he’s an idiot, “I’ll see what we can do for your upset tummy.” The server jots a couple more notes on her pad before walking away. Moments later, the server returns with everyone’s drinks and shots for the table.
Elliott holds up his shot glass, and everyone follows suit except for Victor. “Here’s to the man of the hour! Happy Birthday, Victor!”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” his friends shout around the table.
Victor smiles a little and downs his shot.
It helps cheer him up a little, but he doesn’t engage in idle conversations around him.
At first, Victor was thinking about James, but now, his attention returns to the man in the mirror.
He doesn’t talk about it because he doesn’t want his friends to worry.
He still thinks he was seeing things, but the man was all too real.
As soon as the food arrives, he cheers up even more.
He’s been looking forward to eating the best jambalaya in New Orleans; at least, that’s what Lupe mentioned.
As Victor starts eating, he begins to talk more, which makes his friends happy to see their friend finally emerging from the funk he’s been in.
Victor lets out a little chuckle here and there, still trying to engage, even though he would prefer staying in bed for the weekend.
Toward the end of the meal, the server brings over a slice of cake with a scoop of ice cream on the side and sets it in front of Victor.
This is the part Victor hates. Everyone sings “Happy Birthday.” It’s not because everyone is singing off-key; it’s because everyone is giving him attention he didn’t ask for.
Afterward, Victor and his friends leave the restaurant and head down to Bourbon Street.
Everyone is talking about which bar to go to first, while Victor walks in the middle of the group.
Along the way, they stop at several shops to check out beads and masks.
As Victor looks down the crowded street, he is startled when Lupe adorns a set of beads around his neck with a large birthday cake dangling at the bottom.
Lupe places a kiss on Victor’s cheek as he rolls his eyes.
As they continue down Bourbon Street, Victor stops in front of a bar and looks inside. “They’re playing ‘80s music. We must stop here first.” Victor says enthusiastically.
They walk inside and head to an open spot along the wall. Lucas and Jon head to the bar to buy the first round. Victor starts lip-syncing to “Take On Me” as Frank and Elliott sandwich him while dancing to the music.
Lucas and Jon return with two trays of shots, and Victor’s eyes open wide.
“Oh fuck, you’re going to kill me,” Victor mentions as the shots are handed out. “This is how my life ends, in a seedy bar on Bourbon Street due to alcohol poisoning.”
“Drink up, bitch!” Jon cheers, forcing a shot glass into Victor’s hand.
Victor rolls his eyes and takes a shot with his friends. Then another, and another. By the fourth shot, he shouts, “WOOHOO!! IT’S MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY, BITCHES!” All his friends, including the entire bar, start whooping and cheering.
“There she is!” Elliott shouts, pulling Victor in for a tight bear hug. “About fucking time you got out of your funk.”
Amber kisses Victor’s cheek, “Happy Birthday, my Lesbro.”
After a couple more drinks and singing at the top of their lungs to every song played, they leave the bar to walk to one of the local gay bars Frank suggested.
“Onward! There are shenanigans afoot!” Victor shouts, pointing down the street.
Frank puts his arm around Victor’s shoulders, “You’re drunk.”
Victor smiles back, “And you’re sexy.”
As they laugh, they don’t notice a woman standing just a few doors down on one of the side streets.
She’s a tall woman with sepia-colored, reddish-brown skin.
Her long, tight braids drape past her shoulders.
She leans against a post while smoking an old-fashioned tobacco pipe with her arms crossed.
The woman delicately brings her pipe up to her mouth as her deep brown eyes watch Victor and his friends cross the street.
Jon looks over and notices the woman. He gently nods while keeping up with the group. After Victor and his friends are no longer in sight, the woman looks over her shoulder as the mystery man steps out of the shadows.
“Is that him?” she asks the man in her thick Creole accent.
“I believe so,” the man responds softly, his soothing Brazilian accent evident. “I wouldn’t have followed him from Arizona if I didn’t think so. But we won’t know for sure until you talk to him yourself.”
The woman takes a puff from her pipe and blows a small cloud of thick tobacco smoke in the air. “He seems a bit old.”
“Not everyone we find is a spring chicken.” The man puts his hands in his pockets and turns to walk away. “Are you sure he’ll want this life? He’s technically been off our radar for years.”
The woman doesn’t look back, responding, “I think he’ll come to enjoy it. And maybe he will surprise us.” She takes another drag from her pipe, “Besides,” she exhales the smoke and looks deeply into the cloud, “he doesn’t have much of a choice.”